


For all the Rest of Time

by pinstripedJackalope



Series: TSC Oneshots [3]
Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Nausea, POV Magnus Bane, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting, omfg, this is fucking sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22889269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope
Summary: Alec is sick and Magnus takes care of him.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: TSC Oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659478
Kudos: 137





	For all the Rest of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if this is in character or not. I also have no idea when this is set. Fairly certain that Magnus could actually healthify Alec with a wave of his hand. Still. Wanted a sickfic so just… take it lol. 
> 
> Also, a fun fact: I love writing Magnus in love with Alec.

It was the end of a scorching summer day, and the sun was setting slowly, draping dark blues and purples like a blanket across the city. Out in the city streets, crickets chirped, singing to each other. Drunks wandered, forever searching for their next drink. Wind blew, lights flickered, and creatures prowled, just like they always did. 

Inside, the apartment was cool and quiet. The window in the living room was cracked open, letting just the slightest breeze through. The city was as vibrant as ever on the other side of the glass, the sky lit up by neon lights as traffic congested the arteries of the streets below. 

It was, in short, a normal night. Normal except for—

“Hic- _urp_! Ugh, sorry.”

Magnus felt the corner of his lip twitch upward as Alec stifled another hiccup-burp into his fist. That was the third one in the last minute, compared to two the minute before—they were picking up speed. Alec apologized after every single one, but in all honesty, Magnus couldn’t care less about manners right now. Not with Alec sitting sideways in his lap, his knees folded and his nose tucked under Magnus’s jaw. 

“I told you not to do it,” Magnus said, the arm wrapped around Alec’s waist resting gently against his churning stomach. “I told you—”

“—‘ _don_ _’t give her the benefit of the doubt_ ,’” Alec mimicked, quoting the words Magnus said just before their dinner with Isabelle. Alec’s nose wrinkled. “Honestly, though, I thought she was getting better. She was— _hic-urp_ —ugh. Sorry. She was taking those cooking classes and everything. What was I supposed to do? Break her heart?”

Magnus laughed, hugging Alec a little tighter. “You’re a very good big brother. Unfortunately for you, the only reward for that is a case of indigestion.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“Oh, it’s a little funny,” Magnus said, nudging the stone-faced lump in his lap. “The only thing that can take you down faster than a greater demon is your sister’s terrible cooking.”

“What about your terrible jokes?” Alec asked, but he was fighting a smile now, Magnus could hear it in his voice. Magnus snorted unattractively and nudged him again, and a moment later was rewarded with a bright laugh as Alec’s stone facade broke down. The motion, however—unfortunately for him—pressed up another bubble of air, and he burped uncomfortably, the laughter turning into a groan and an apology.

“It’s okay,” Magnus said, running his hand up Alec’s hip and along the side of his bloated stomach, rubbing slow circles. “You don’t have to apologize. How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” Alec said, pressing closer to Magnus. “But you make me feel a little better.”

“Good,” Magnus breathed, adjusting his arms to hold Alec a little tighter. He was thankful that he could get Alec to relax a little even when he wasn’t feeling well. He hated knowing that Alec was uncomfortable and there was nothing, no magic nor potion, that would really help. Feeling useless was almost as bad as feeling helpless.

As if detecting the slant of Magnus’s thoughts, Alec hummed and nuzzled against Magnus’s jaw. “Stop thinking so hard.”

“Can’t help it, love,” Magnus said. “You worry me sometimes.”

Alec huffed. “This can hardly count as an event worth worrying over. It’s just a little indigestion.”

Magnus stayed silent. It was true: as a shadowhunter Alec faced worse daily. Still, Magnus didn’t like the idea of Alec intentionally making himself sick to avoid hurting his sister’s feelings.

“Just promise me that next time you’ll say something to her,” he said. “Don’t just… finish the food. Okay?”

“Yes, okay,” Alec huffed. He’d folded his arms across his stomach, holding it loosely. Part of it, Magnus knew, was just the fact that he wasn’t feeling well. The other part, however… well. Just suffice to say that Alec’s big brother instincts hadn’t been quite the same since Max’s death.

Magnus sighed a little through his nose. It was what it was. If Alec needed to baby his little sister a bit to fill the hole Max left behind that was none of Magnus’s business. He just hoped that Alec didn’t hurt himself doing it.

Things were quiet for a while after that, the silence only broken by the occasional noise from Alec’s stomach and the hiccup-burps that were still coming up. Magnus let his mind wander, unconsciously running his hand up and down Alec’s side. They had a lot going on these days. Though really, that didn’t mean much when there _always_ seemed to be a lot going on. It was never-ending, the drama and the battles and the stress and—

Magnus twitched out of his thoughts as Alec suddenly jerked away from him, sitting upright all of a sudden. He had one hand fisted in front of his mouth, his throat working, eyes closed. 

“What is it, love?” Magnus asked. 

Other than a small twitch at the sound of Magnus’s voice, Alec didn’t move, staying stock still for a long moment. Then, voice strangled, he said, “I think it’s coming back up.”

Magnus gaped for a moment. “What, _dinner_?” he asked.

Alec, face much too pale, only nodded. His fist was pressed urgently against his mouth, his other hand clutching his stomach. This wasn’t a joke. Not that Alec joked around often. Magnus let out a curse before sliding his free arm under Alec’s knees. The other was already around his boyfriend’s shoulders, allowing Magnus to scoop him up bridal style and, with all the grace of a newborn giraffe, carry him to the bathroom.

Alec gagged into his hand as Magnus deposited him gently on the floor in front of the toilet. Sweat was beading on his ashen face and he leaned over the bowl as soon as he was down, already retching. 

It didn’t take long after that for dinner to make its reappearance. 

Magnus winced from the sidelines, hand hovering over Alec’s heaving back. “Oh, love…” he said as Alec threw up once… twice… three times in quick succession. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad…”

Alec moaned, took a deep breath, and threw up again. He coughed and spit, still leaning over the toilet. He didn’t move back. He couldn’t. His stomach wouldn’t let him.

Magnus felt his heart squeeze in sympathy. He’d seen Alec sick a few times before, but it had never been quite as bad as this. He wished again that there was something he could do—some magical cure that would take all of Alec’s suffering away. Some rune or potion or—god, _anything_.

“ _Fuck_ , man,” Alec said, after throwing up a fifth time. He spit again, bracing his elbow on the rim of the toilet. His hand was in his hair, holding his black bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

Magnus tentatively pressed a hand to the back of his neck, beginning to run it up and down his spine when Alec leaned toward him a little. With his other hand he conjured up a full glass of water, not too cold, so Alec could clean out his mouth and have something to drink. “Just a little,” he said, handing it over.

Alec sipped at the water, leaning over to spit the mouthful into the toilet. The next sip he tentatively swallowed before shaking his head and pushing the glass into Magnus’s hands. He groaned, leaning over again. “Not gonna stay down,” he said when Magnus made an inquiring noise.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus said again, at a loss for what to do. Four centuries old and he was still unable to do anything more than run his fingers through Alec’s sweaty hair and rub his back as he threw up.

At least this round didn’t last too long after that. Another retch or two, and Alec finally leaned all the way back, scrubbing his hands over his face. He was still much too pale, his shirt sweaty and his hair in disarray from running his hands through it, but he no longer had that ‘puke imminent’ sort of look about him.

“Care to take this to bed?” Magnus asked, running his fingers through Alec’s dark hair to neaten it up a bit. Alec looked good with tousled hair—he looked good all the time, really—but he didn’t look like himself like that. It reminded Magnus of things he usually didn’t want to think about. Things like Alec injured and near death, unconscious in an infirmary bed in the Institute. Young Alec, reckless Alec, the Alec who tried to take on a greater demon head to head and failed.

Alec again broke him out of his thoughts. “Don’t think I should stray too far,” he said, blinking up at Magnus like a sleepy cat. He would have looked positively adorable if not for the fact that the corners of his mouth were pulling down in discomfort. 

Magnus stroked Alec’s cheek, looking down at him fondly. “That’s okay,” he said. “I can make you comfy here.”

“Oh. That would be nice,” Alec said. He was slowly tilting to the side, his shoulder pressing against Magnus’s knee. Magnus let him stay there as he conjured up some pillows and a nice fluffy blanket to wrap around Alec’s shoulders. Alec looked a little ridiculous in it—pink wasn’t really his color, though Magnus thought it went well with his dark hair—but he seemed content enough to wrap himself up and flop onto his side, head on a pillow.

Magnus settled behind him, rubbing his back through the blanket. “So what would make you feel better? Some idle conversation to take your mind off of it?”

“I think I just want to sleep,” Alec mumbled into the blanket. He shifted a little, wrapping an arm around his stomach. “Or try to, I guess. Not sure how well this is gonna go.”

Humming, Magnus pressed his fingers into a tight spot on Alec’s back, massaging it. “I could sing you a lullaby if you want.”

“You sing?”

“Like a songbird, darling. Here, sit up for a moment.”

Alec complied, pushing himself up on shaky arms. Magnus was quick to settle in, sitting with his legs crisscrossed for Alec to rest on. Once he had Alec’s head on his thigh, Magnus cleared his throat and, with hardly a pause, began to sing an Indonesian lullaby from the days of his own youth. 

Alec was hardly the first lover Magnus had ever sung to, but there was something special about the way Alec’s breath slowed and his body relaxed, as if he wasn’t just listening but _feeling_ the lullaby down to his bones. It was a far cry from the way Camille had smiled and laughed that tinkling laugh of hers the first time Magnus sang to her, as if she were watching the entertainment of the evening. Magnus didn’t like comparing his lovers to each other—they had each brought something to his life and it didn’t seem fair to place them side to side and pick favorites—but Alec… Alec wasn’t like all the others. He was slow and steady and strong, deep like an ocean, and Magnus had fallen harder for him than he ever had before. 

He wondered, sometimes, if a love like this was bound to burn out early. If he would wake up one day and realize that his feelings had taken their course and were over. He was afraid, sometimes, that this wouldn’t last. That it would all slip through his fingers. But here, now… with Alec in his lap, slowly sinking down into an easy sleep… he felt like he would be in love for all the rest of time.


End file.
